


the claiming game

by hoosierbitch



Category: White Collar
Genre: Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Porn, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoosierbitch/pseuds/hoosierbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about control, and trust, and letting go. And also, vibrating cock rings. </p>
            </blockquote>





	the claiming game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asimaiyat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimaiyat/gifts).



> **For visualization purposes**: the [first butt plug](http://www.stockroom.com/Bud-Black-Vinyl-Ripple-Probe-P187.aspx), the [second butt plug](http://www.sextoy.com/prod_info.php?a=stcppc&pnum=CNVEF-EESS950-82), the [nipple clamps](http://www.stockroom.com/Adjustable-C-Clamps-P572.aspx), the [cockring](http://www.stockroom.com/Vibrating-Leather-Cock-Ring-P1998.aspx).

“You like having your pussy played with, don’t you?”

Neal flushed and squirmed away from Peter’s gaze as much as he could. Which wasn’t far – he’d made sure not to leave Neal with a lot of wiggle room. He’d bent Neal’s knees up until they pressed against his chest, putting painful pressure on the nipple clamps that he’d tightened until Neal had begged him to stop. And then he’d handcuffed his arms around the back of his knees. Neal was helpless, holding himself open, and completely at Peter’s mercy.

“Answer me, Neal.” He pushed the butt plug in another inch. It had ridges all along the shaft, and Neal flinched with each new stretch. “Tell me you like it when I play with your pussy,” he said, shoving it all the way in and then waiting for Neal to get his screams under control. “It’s no use pretending otherwise.” He licked at the rim of Neal’s hole, tasting mostly vinyl but also skin and sweat and Neal. He could feel the muscles tighten under his tongue. Hear how much it hurt Neal, to try and close his hole with the giant plug holding him open. “Say it, and I’ll think about letting you come.”

Neal’s cheeks were beet red – from embarrassment or exertion, Peter wasn’t sure. By the end of the night he knew it would be both. “I can’t,” Neal said, and Peter smiled. If Neal had said no, Peter would have stopped. But Neal saying he couldn’t – well, that was just Neal’s way of asking for help.

He leaned forward and licked at his boy’s cock while he slowly eased the plug out of his ass. He could feel Neal’s thighs tremble with the urge to come – but Neal had never managed to come with a cock ring on before. Tonight? He was going to change that. He sucked the head of Neal’s cock until he begged.

“Please, Peter – gotta come – Peter, Peter, please – I – I like it when you – when you play with my pussy,” Neal said with a sob. “Please, let me come,” and Peter rewarded him with an extra hard suck and a twist of the plug buried inside of him that made Neal’s whole body lurch.

“Too late,” he said, and watched Neal’s face fall as he pulled away. He uncuffed Neal’s arms and massaged his legs carefully, hitting Neal’s pressure points with his thumb to make sure being bent like a pretzel for nearly an hour hadn’t done him any harm.

“Are we – are we done?” Neal asked. He sounded scared. He hated it when Peter didn’t pay attention to him. Worse, when he thought he’d failed. He’d never disappointed Peter before, and he wasn’t expecting Neal to start now.

“Oh, baby,” he said, loving the way Neal’s blush travelled down his chest, to his swollen, bitten nipples whenever Peter used that particular endearment. “You are so far from done, I can’t even tell you. I’m going to make you scream,” he said, leaving Neal shivering on the bed to go to the box of toys. “Make you scream, and beg, and cry for me, just the way I like you to. And then,” he said, bringing the new butt plug over, watching Neal’s eyes grow wide when he saw the size of it. “Then, you’re going to come. While the cock ring’s on.” He pulled the ridged plug out slowly.

“I can’t,” Neal said, already nervous and apologetic. He knew how badly Peter wanted to see him come like that – he wanted Neal to hurt as he hurtled over that last edge. Wanted to be the one who pushed him over.

“You will,” Peter said confidently, sliding the new plug into Neal’s well-lubed hole. Neal whined when it got all the way in. It was long, thick, and curved just right for prostate stimulation. And there was another little feature that Peter couldn’t wait to try out.

Peter had three remotes in his pockets. First, he turned on the vibrating cock ring. Then, the bullet in the base of the plug. And, finally, the second bullet vibe in the plug, on the small extension that pressed up right against Neal’s perineum. Stimulating his prostate from inside and out. He slid the control all the way up, until it was at full power, and watched Neal’s whole body tighten. His feet dug into the mattress, his hips lifted off the bed entirely, his hands fisted at his side, his breath came in harsh pants through his nose, his teeth clenched and eyes closed. He looked like he was having a seizure, except his cock was streaming with precum. Peter checked to make sure it wasn’t semen – there was just so much of it!

When he turned them off Neal collapsed limply against the mattress. Peter pushed him onto his side and picked up the roll of bondage tape. He taped Neal’s arms together from wrist to elbow.

“You almost came just then,” he said soothingly, running a hand through Neal’s sweat-soaked hair. “And you will, later. But first – dinner. El’s making ravioli,” he said. “Your favorite.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Neal said again, and he did sound awfully pitiful.

Peter grabbed the chain connecting the nipple clamps and pulled on it until Neal was scrambling off the bed. Peter loved using the clamps. They let him pull until Neal’s nipples were distended, and he knew when he let go, they’d be raw, tender and swollen around the metal that was torturing them. “You can,” Peter said again. “And you will.”

Neal stood beside him, still shaking. “Trust me,” he said. And he waited until Neal nodded before he opened the door and pulled his boy down the hallway.

He helped Neal down the stairs, one hand under his elbow. Neal moaned with every step, the plug rubbing against his prostate. His cock jumped every time he went down a level.

Peter wasn’t much better off – there was a wet spot on his pants from his precum leaking through. “El – how much longer?” he hollered when they’d reached the landing. Neal was leaning heavily against his side.

She walked over to see what they were doing. “About ten minutes,” she said. “Has Neal been very bad, or very good?”

Peter didn’t usually make him leave the bedroom when they played. He knew how much Neal hated to lose control – and how much more he hated it when anyone else was around to witness it. Even being in the living room when El wasn’t home made Neal blush like a virgin. The couch was Peter’s favorite place to fuck him. But right inside the door would do, too.

“Don’t know yet,” Peter murmured. Then he spun Neal around and pushed him head first against the wall. He held him there with one hand, and with the other, undid his pants. He pulled them down just far enough to get his dick out.

“Beg for my cock, slut.”

El leaned against the railing to get a better look.

“No,” Neal said, and he actually started to push back against the restraining hand Peter had between his shoulders.

Peter stepped up close behind him and kissed his neck. It never failed to calm him down. “You’re going to ask me to fuck you,” he said, “or I’m not going to let you come until tomorrow morning.”

Neal shuddered underneath him. Peter waited patiently. El waved a hand to get his attention, and when he looked over, she pointed at herself and gestured towards the kitchen. Peter shook his head. She wanted to watch, Peter wanted her to watch, and Neal, when he agreed (and Peter knew he would) would be so proud of himself. And it had been a rough week at work. Neal needed the reassurance, the boost that he’d get from the accomplishment.

“Fuck me,” Neal said, just when Peter was beginning to doubt him.

“Now, Neal, that’s not the way to ask for what you want, now, is it?” He pulled the plug out of Neal’s ass and set it on the small table by the door.

“Please,” Neal tried again, pushing his ass back so that Peter’s dick slid between his cheeks. “Fuck me.”

“Better,” Peter said, rutting slowly against Neal, feeling the hot, wet hole brush against the head of his dick. “What do you want me to fuck, Neal?”

Neal froze again. Peter reached down and started stroking his cock, giving Neal time to work up to it.

“Please,” Neal said, when Peter’s hand was slick with Neal’s precum and busy teasing at his slit. “Fuck my pussy,” he whispered, and Peter obeyed.

All the way in on one thrust, Neal’s hole was so loose – it was an easy slide for Peter, but judging from the way Neal cried out, going up on his tiptoes to try and ease the burn, it wasn’t as easy on the other side. Peter chuckled, grabbed Neal’s bound wrists, and pulled until his balls were resting against the firm curve of Neal’s ass.

“Perfect,” he said, rocking forward lazily. “Well – almost,” and he reached for Neal’s cock again. This time, instead of stroking it, he flicked the head lightly. Neal shouted a startled protest and Peter groaned at how tight his hole got.

Satchmo came over to investigate the noise, but Elizabeth grabbed his collar before he could stick his nose anywhere uncomfortable. “I’ll put him out back and check on the pasta,” El said, giving Peter a quick kiss on the shoulder. “You two have fun.”

“I’m sure we will,” he said, and thumped Neal gently on the balls, making him clench and sob at the same time. Peter didn’t have a lot of leverage, with Neal tense and tied and shaking, so instead of fucking him, he just smacked Neal’s cock. He flicked and pinched and teased until Neal’s hole was constricting around his cock like his throat did when Peter choked him on it. He was using Neal like a sextoy, a doll, using Neal to masturbate instead of fuck.

He came after another few minutes. Neal wasn’t sobbing by that point – his eyes were glassy, his cock burning hot, lost in the sensations that Peter gave him. He pulled out slowly and pushed the plug in immediately after. Neal would have to sit through dinner with Peter’s come inside of him.

“Dinner’s on the table,” El called.

He waited until Neal caught his breath before he turned on the vibe on the cock ring and pulled Neal over to the table. He eased him into his seat, not wanting to miss a second of Neal’s adjustment to having the base of the plug pressed flush against the seat of the chair. His mouth parted, his eyes closed, he _writhed_, rocking forward against the table and then back against Peter.

“How’s he going to eat?” Elizabeth asked, looking at his bound arms.

Peter pulled his chair closer to Neal’s, stabbed a piece of ravioli with a fork, and then held it up to Neal’s mouth. He fed him like that. Piece by piece, watching him take it delicately between his teeth, while he and Elizabeth made small talk about the food and weather and work. When Neal’s plate was empty Peter put two of his fingers into Neal’s mouth for him to suck, and went back to his own plate.

Neal was gone. Hard as a rock, fucked-out, desperate, and sucking on Peter’s fingers so diligently Peter wondered if maybe he’d forgotten that they weren’t his cock. His eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed, he was rocking himself back and forth on the plug relentlessly. It was good – but not perfect. Not yet.

“Go get me another beer,” he instructed, pulling his fingers away and wiping them off on his napkin. It didn’t really matter that he had half a bottle left. That wasn’t the point. Neal started to stand and Peter turned all the vibrators up to full power. Neal stumbled against the table – he would have fallen if it hadn’t been there. “On your knees, Neal” he said softly, turning the vibes off.

Neal looked at him nervously, before flashing a glance at Elizabeth. She was resting her head on one hand, holding her wine glass with the other. “Don’t let me stop you,” she said, and Peter grinned.

Of all the things Neal hated, he hated being awkward most of all. He lurched onto his knees unevenly, using the table and then his chair for support, his cheeks flushed the entire time. “How was work?” Peter asked Elizabeth as Neal began his slow shuffle to the kitchen.

“I think I’m going to have to fire Yvonne,” she said, looking away from Neal long enough to flash Peter a regretful look. “She keeps showing up late, and missing work on short notice – I know her boyfriend’s going through a rough patch, and I _hate_ to pile on more difficulty on top of that – but business is booming, and I need people who I can depend on.”

“Can you take her to part time?” He could hear the refrigerator door open, and, a few seconds later, close.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” she said with a sigh.

When Neal shuffled back out, beer bottle in his left hand, Peter frowned. He knew that expression. There was a difference between subspace and disassociation, and he didn’t want Neal pretending he was somewhere else. He flipped the butt plug up to half-power and Neal froze for a long moment before he began to shake.

“Peter, honey, he’s dripping on the floor.”

He was, too. Precum was dripping out of his dick, trailing in long wet streaks down his erect cock, over the leather band around his balls. “Are you making a mess?” Peter asked, and it was closer to a whisper than a tease, because Neal was looking at him again – not trying to hide, or deflect, or act. He was letting them both see how uncomfortable and turned on and scared and proud he was.

“Hurry up,” Peter said, voice rough. “Or I’ll make you lick your mess off the floor.” He didn’t turn the vibe down, though, and when Neal stopped next to his chair, twisting around to offer Peter the beer bottle, a small pool of precum formed between his knees.

He had to admit, he was a bit disappointed that Neal had managed to reach the bottle with his hands. He’d been hoping that he’d have to carry it in his mouth – hmm. “Open up,” he ordered, and Neal obeyed. He twisted the cap off the bottle and held it up to Neal’s lips. “Now suck it.”

He played with the nipple clamps while Neal fellated the neck of the bottle, choking every so often when Peter tipped it forward. Neal hated his brand of beer.

“How’s he doing?” El asked.

“He’s a slut for cock,” Peter said fondly. “Even if it’s a fake one. He’s sucking it really nicely. Like he wishes it was mine. Don’t you, baby?”

Neal blushed, his hips jerked – then he looked up at Peter, eyes half-lidded with fatigue, and nodded. “My good little slut,” and Neal sucked harder, faster, swollen lips slurping obscenely at the glass.

“Christ, Peter,” El said. “I’ve already come twice – he must be dying!”

He took the bottle back and took a sip. Then tugged at the nipple clamps until Neal awkwardly got back onto his feet. Neal’s cock was turning a beautiful shade of purple, his balls heavy and tight.

“There’s a game on,” he said. “It’s going to start soon – Neal can wait until it’s over.” He wiped away the tears that started to fall from Neal’s eyes.

He got scissors from the kitchen and cut off the tape from Neal’s arms. “Clear the table – eat more, if you’re still hungry – and then come over to the couch, take out my cock, and suck it until I tell you to stop.”

“You’re getting better at this,” Elizabeth said as she joined him on the sofa, grabbing the remote. “The dirty talk. And the orders.”

“Jealous?” he asked.

“A little,” she said, and he looked at her, startled. “Not – I don’t want to play with him, the way you do. And I certainly don’t want you to do that to me. But – it must be nice,” she said, watching Neal wipe the table, the base of the plug visible when he bent over to swipe the center of the table. “To have someone trust you like that.”

“It is,” he said softly. Because it wasn’t just about Neal – not about getting him to relax, or open up, or trust that he was part of their family. Sometimes, it was about Peter. About knowing that he was in control of this one thing, this one person. That he could take care of his boy so completely. He could trust Neal to tell him to stop if he went too far, forgive him for any transgressions, to thank him for every touch and kiss and pain. To trust Peter when he didn’t trust himself.

When Neal walked over, Peter pulled him in for a kiss before letting him fall to his knees. Neal smiled at him, wide and open and honest, and then starting sucking his cock. “Stroke yourself,” he said, turning up the volume on the tv.

By the time half-time came around, Neal was panting around Peter’s dick, his hand making wet, sloppy noises every time he stroked himself. He was fucking up into his own hand, moaning at every shift of the plug inside of him.

At half-time, Peter pulled Neal into his lap. Spread Neal’s legs on the outside of his own, holding him open. Neal’s cock was harder and hotter than Peter had ever felt it before. When he starting to stroke it, Neal’s head fell back onto Peter’s shoulder – he didn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore.

“How has he not come yet?” Elizabeth asked, her hand busy between her thighs.

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “But he’s going to. And soon.”

He turned all three vibrators up to full power. He had to let go of Neal’s dick to cover his mouth – he was going to scare the neighbors, the way he was screaming. He wrapped his other arm around Neal’s waist to keep him from bucking off of his lap.

“Turn the volume up on the tv, would you?” El didn’t look away from the sight of Neal, screaming and crying and splashing precum all over the couch. Peter watched the game. The third quarter was pretty slow. A few good plays, one spectacularly bad call on the ref’s part, one of his favorite players called off of the bench.

When the fourth quarter began, he took the hand that was covering Neal’s mouth, and shifted it upwards, to cover his nose and his mouth.

After that, Neal didn’t have enough breath to scream. Or enough strength left to fight. He struggled, but Peter held him down easily – although it was getting harder to pay attention to the game, with Neal wiggling on his cock, the vibrations from his plug almost unpleasantly strong.

He used the game clock to count the seconds. He never held his hand over Neal’s mouth for more than forty seconds, never let him breath for more than five. In the commercial breaks he let Neal beg him for mercy. Played with his balls while Neal called him master, sir, daddy, Peter – while he called himself a slut, whore, worthless, Peter’s pussy, everything and anything he could think of.

“What are you going to do if he can’t come?” Elizabeth asked when Neal’s whimpers had built back up to screams.

“He will,” Peter said. When the game ended, he asked Elizabeth to move to one of the other chairs. Then he spread Neal out on the couch, on his knees, but bent forward so that most of his weight was on his shoulders, his nipples scraping painfully against the cushion. Then he stretched himself out over Neal. He was still dressed, but he could feel Neal’s sweat soaking through his clothes.

He grabbed one of Neal’s hands and brought it to his cock. Neal cried out and tried to twist away when Peter wrapped their hands around it – it had to be painful. Peter started stroking him slowly, ignoring the sound of Neal screaming, enjoying the sensation of Neal’s hips bucking up underneath his with every thrust.

“You’re my partner,” he said when Neal stopped screaming to catch his breath. “You’re my boy, you’re my friend, you’re my _partner_,” and Neal stopped crying to listen, as if Peter’s words alone were enough to hold him over. “You’re going to come for me,” he said, and bit the side of Neal’s neck when he started to shake his head. “You’re my beautiful boy,” he said, and Neal shuddered and stopped fighting.

“You’re going to relax,” he said, and felt Neal’s shoulders loosen. “And you’re going to play with your cock.” Neal sobbed, but didn’t fight, didn’t tense – just tightened his hand, still intertwined with Peter’s, and started to jerk himself off.

“You’re doing exactly what I want you to be doing.” Peter said, and Neal’s hips hitched involuntarily, he felt the vein on the underside of his cock pulse. “I love it when you let me do this,” he whispered against the shell of Neal’s ear, too quietly for Elizabeth to hear it. “You’re going to come,” he said, kissing the spot on Neal’s neck that made him shiver.

“Come,” he said. “For me.”

At first, he didn’t know if it worked. Neal stopped moving, stopped breathing, his hand on his dick stilled – then he heard Elizabeth swear. She could see underneath Neal, could see their hands on his dick – “He’s coming,” she said. “He’s so good for you,” and Neal whimpered, and this time Peter moved his hand to catch the cum spraying out of his dick. His hand was covered by the time Neal stopped, and he made Neal lick it off.

He didn’t turn the vibrators off until Neal was hard again. It was time for round two.


End file.
